


Draco The Red Nosed Auror

by donnarafiki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Christmas, Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21767392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnarafiki/pseuds/donnarafiki
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Draco isnotsick Potter, thank you very much.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 23
Kudos: 165
Collections: Wireless Festive Minifest 2019





	Draco The Red Nosed Auror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gnarf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnarf/gifts).



> This work is part of the Christmas Wireless Mini Fest, and based on the song Rudolph The Red Nose Reindeer (wow, who would have guessed?)
> 
> Gifting this disaster of a fic to Gnarf bc we were sick at the same time and I wrote most of this while on a fever high and I know she liked my previous Christmas fics so hopefully she'll like this one too!
> 
> Please do not copy this to another site
> 
> Big thank you to my betas Saphira and Satyendra (and maybe someone else too? I do not remember writing 90% of this fic im so sorry)

**Harry**

“Hey! Wow wow wow wow, what do you think you’re doing?” Harry was out of his chair before Draco even seemed to know someone was talking to him. “You look like death. What on earth are you doing here? Get back in bed! Or better still, go to the hospital.”

“M’b fibe,” Draco muttered, shooting him a watery glare. The colour of his nose rivaled that of Rudolf, he was shivering all over, and Harry was half convinced a soft blow of air could topple his colleague over. “‘S Chrifmaf eve. Can’t-, can’t call in sick. No obe covers for me ob norbal days.” 

“Draco,” Harry sighed, putting a hand on Draco’s forehead. “You’re burning up. You’re not allowed to work this shift, and that’s an order. I’ll take you home once I’ve told Robbarts you’re sick. Now go take a seat in my chair, and you better have finished off my tea by the time I get back or I’ll be forced to take drastic measures, understood?”

Draco fell more than sat down in his chair and only replied in the shape of a groan. Harry shook his head. The idiot would work himself to death one day if he kept this up. Not that the rest of the Auror department was any help, with the way they encouraged Draco’s unhealthy work addiction. Harry doubted Draco was even happy here, but they hadn’t been on friendly terms long enough for him to ask. Plus, it wasn’t like Harry himself was having the time of his life as an Auror, yet he’d never told anyone about that either. 

“Sir?” Harry called through the office door while he knocked. He was scared Draco might fall off his chair if left alone for too long. The door swung open, revealing a Robarts who looked like he was just leaving. “I’m here to tell you Draco Malfoy is sick. I’ll be taking him home, someone else has to cover his shift, sir.” 

“Malfoy isn’t sick, Potter.” Harry’s boss replied, the words almost sounding like an order. As if that was how being sick worked. “It’s Christmas Eve, he must have been telling porkies. I’m not tearing another Auror away from their family during the holiday for that.”

Within a second red hot anger bubbled up in Harry’s chest. How dare Robarts not only refuse to acknowledge the health of his Aurors, but also talk about Draco as if he were a petulant child? 

“I’ll remind you that Auror Malfoy isn’t five years old, _sir_ , that his fever is through the roof and that he came into work despite being sick. The only reason he’s going home now is because _I_ refuse to let you and the other Aurors bully him to death with your petty antics. He’s coming home with me. Find someone to cover his shift. Or don’t, I honestly couldn’t give a flying Hippogriff’s cunt.”

“Potter!” Robart’s fury looked like it could match Harry’s. “You better come back with a better attitude tomorrow or don’t come back at all!” 

“Fine!” Harry yelled back, the idea of spending Christmas Day at the Burrow after all looked a million times better than staying in this dump anyway. Draco wouldn’t be on call with him in his current state, which really had been the only reason he’d taken the shift at all. “Have fun finding two last minute replacements during Christmas, you stuck up prick.” 

And with that, he slammed the door shut and stalked back to his old desk. Probably for the last time.

* * *

**Draco**

Draco’s head was too heavy for his neck. He tried leaning back but the backrest of Potter’s chair wasn’t high enough, so his only option was laying his head down on the desk. He didn’t want to, it was undignified, but now that his body knew it would be shoved back into bed by Potter soon, it no longer listened to him. 

His face hit the hardwood surface with a dull thud, his eyes closing soon after. Somewhere far away he heard an agitated discussion, but his mind was too slugging to process that information. Merlin, but he hated Christmas. 

_Take a ministry job and work yourself up_ , his father had said. _It’ll be rewarding and worthwhile_ , he’d said. Just after the war Draco had been so lost he would have taken anyone’s advice, even that of his shitty father who’d thrown them all under the bus when push came to shove. And with most of his friends out of the country or in some private mental health institution, his father’s advice was all he had. 

Well, except for all the Howlers and random passersby who told him to kill himself, but doing that required at least a little bit of courage, and Draco had none. So he’d applied to become an Auror. It was the only job where they might hire him, since he was one of the few people who knew how to deal with Voldemort’s many cursed objects and traps. 

After eight years on the force he was still in the same position, to his father’s dismay, working all holidays and other crappy shifts while being left out of the office’s pub nights and their Secret Santa. The only person who talked to him about anything not strictly work related was Potter, though he wasn’t sure why. Probably a Weasley thing, looking after all the strays and lost folks. 

In the end that attention just made him feel more alone.

This time around though, he didn’t mind that caring nature. He hadn’t been looking forward to a nightshift filled with coffee, pepper-up and clogged sinuses. Being back in bed sounded like heaven, though the desk was a wonderful substitute. Already he couldn’t fight hard enough to get his eyes back open. Not even when he heard quick, angry footsteps approach. 

_Kill me then, you angry stranger_ , Draco’s mind mumbled. _See if I care_. 

“Draco?” The footsteps came to a halt. Someone brushed a lock of hair out of his face. “Did you fall asleep? Your fever rose, I can tell you that much. Come on, we’ll use the emergency floo, it’ll only be a couple steps.” 

Draco let out a long groan but failed to help when he was dragged to his feet. One featherlight charm later he was carried in someone’s arms. Potter’s arms, probably. Draco’s fever brain couldn’t process that, and he conked out indefinitely on Potter’s shoulder. A bit of rest, peace and quiet was honestly the best Christmas present he’d gotten in a very long time.

* * *

**Harry**

Harry took Draco back to his place, since the man didn’t seem able to explain where he lived. That suspicion was confirmed when not soon after arriving, Draco softly began to snore. It was quite possibly the most adorable sound Harry had ever heard, and he did his best to focus on it so his anger at Robards would seep away. 

He didn’t know how he felt about not coming back to his job, but he knew he didn’t want to think about it now. There were more pressing matters at hand, like getting Draco Malfoy up the stairs. It proved to be quite the challenge, as Draco was taller than him and completely uncooperative. Harry was half tempted to join the blond in bed by the time they actually reached it. 

One glance at his guest changed his mind though. Draco was somehow both deadly pale and red in the face, the sharp contrast just making him look more unhealthy. His nose was so red it was almost glowing. 

“Don’t worry, Rudolph,” he chuckled, softly booping Draco’s nose. It was sad, really, that Draco didn’t have anyone but him to drag him back to bed when he was sick. The once so popular Malfoy heir was quite alone now, and Harry couldn’t stand it. Too many Christmases he’d been left in his cupboard begging for scraps. No one deserved that, whether they had someone terrorising them or if they terrorised themselves. “I’ll make you part of my pack if the other reindeer won’t have you.”

He hopped off the bed and went downstairs to make some soup. He wouldn’t bother Mrs Weasley on Christmas Eve and soup always helped, he thought. Taking care of sick people wasn’t his forte, but he could hardly do worse than Draco himself. He had no idea if the man was allergic to anything, so he tried to make a basic broth with toast. That’s what sick people ate, right?

Just as he deemed everything ready to go, there came a distraught noise from upstairs. Worried Draco might have fallen out of bed, Harry took the stairs two steps at a time, the tray of soup afloat behind him in the air. The noise got louder as he approached his bedroom, sounding ever more like terrified, muffled screams. 

“Draco? Are you-, Draco!” Harry rushed to his side as he saw what the issue was; His guest was having some sort of fever dream-nightmare. Draco was bathing in sweat, his face scrunched up in fear. “Draco, wake up. It’s just a bad dream, it’s not real. Come on, I made you soup. You can’t have soup when you’re having a nightmare. Unless it’s really awful soup, but I really tried my best on this!” 

Harry knew he was rambling but he couldn’t get himself to stop. Draco wasn’t much impressed and didn’t show any signs of waking. Harry tried shaking him a bit with no effect. so he conjured a glass of water and flicked some of it in Draco’s face. It seemed to at least change the nightmare, even if Draco didn’t wake up, though he might…

“Oh shit, what if I’m making you pee your pants! Or put rain in your nightmare! It can’t rain in your nightmare, that would just make it worse.” Draco began to stir, cutting off any more insane ramblings Harry might utter, which was probably for the best. “Draco? Draco can you hear me?” 

Draco groaned, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them. “Wha-, what? Harry? What are you-, am I-, where am I?”

“In my bed. You have a fever and tried to go to work anyway, you idiot. So I took you home. Well, first I got myself fired, then I took you home. I made soup!” 

Draco blinked a couple of times, looking quite confused. It was endearing. 

“You-, you’re fired?” Endearment shifted to fear, somehow looking more intense than the nightmare had done. Draco tried to sit up, sending himself into a coughing fit. Harry sat on the bed and tried to support him, letting the man cough against his sweater. 

“I mean, a little bit, yeah. Robarts told me not to come back. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends.” 

Apparently that was not the right thing to say, because Draco then put his arms around Harry’s neck while his coughing fit slowly turned into crying. Confused and cursing himself for being such a poor host, Harry held him there, rubbing slow circles on his back. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I’ll come visit you for lunch if you’d like?” Harry hugged Draco closer, noticing once again that his fever was quite high. “But I think you need to take some potions first, Draco. Eat something. I can’t take you out for lunch if you die.”

Draco let out a low groan as response. It was probably too much to ask for a coherent reply, with the nightmare and the crying and Harry not being able to keep his trap shut and all. So he let Draco rest on him, bribed him with soft words and back rubs to take his potions and soup and lay him down again when he refused to eat any more. 

“You can go to sleep now, alright?” Harry pushed a sweaty strand of hair out of Draco’s face, getting a grateful murmur in reply. It made him smile. “I’ll be here when you wake up. You can just focus on getting better.” 

When he was sure Draco was fast asleep, he transfigured the man’s clothing into fresh pyjamas, cast a mild cooling charm on the duvet and cleared away the rubble. If he kept himself busy, he wouldn’t have to think about the life altering argument he’d had a few hours ago, he wouldn’t spiral, and he wouldn’t have a panic attack in bed next to a sick Draco Malfoy. A flawless plan if there’d ever been one, since Harry had never struggled to keep his attention aimed at Draco before. 

The only minor detail he’d missed, was that he had _Draco Malfoy_ in his _bed_. Which was a welcome but very confusing and big distraction. How was he supposed to explain things to the man the next morning? _Christmas_ morning no less. What if Draco was angry, or insulted, what if he just straight up left? 

Many thoughts whirled around his head as he tried and failed to fall asleep. He’d been too impulsive again, he should have called someone who actually knew Draco. Someone like Parkinson or his mother. Oh god what if they were worried sick? Would Robarts be petty enough to tell anyone who asked that Draco had gone missing, instead of that Harry had taken him home? And what if he did tell the truth and Parkinson thought it was another sixth year bathroom situation? What if it _was_ another sixth year bathroom situation? Maybe Draco was allergic to the carrots in the soup, or the healing potion, or he was diabetic and about to go into shock, or-

Harry’s rapidly spiraling thoughts were interrupted by Draco rolling over and settling contently on top of his chest, fever noticeably lower than before. Harry let out a slow breath, and carefully put his arms around the man. Where normally he found touch overwhelming when he freaked out, there was something about Draco’s weight on top of him that only calmed him down. In fact, after a while he even began to feel sleepy, and a few minutes later, Harry slowly drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a Christmas morning part of this fic too! I'm just not done writing it yet haha. If you have anything you're dying to see for the next day pls leave a comment!


End file.
